Alex Rider: The HYDRA Deception
by Durza II
Summary: It's been two years since Snakehead. In that time Alex has managed to settle back into his normal life. Alex is in L.A with Jack for the summer. He meets two people he hasn't seen in years, which makes for a deadly and unhappy reunion.
1. Old Acquaintances

Might feel a bit fast paced. Enojy.

**Name:**** Alex Rider**

**Date of Birth:**** 13 January 1991**

**Family: ****John Rider (father, deceased), Helen Beckett Rider (mother, deceased)**

**Relatives:**** Ian Rider (uncle, deceased)**

**Gender:**** Male**

**Hair colour:**** Fair**

**Eye Colour:**** Dark-brown**

**Height:**** 177.8 cm (5 foot and 8 inches)**

**Weight:**** 70 kg (154 pounds and 5 ounces)**

**Physical Appearance:**** Rider has been described as a good-looking boy, with a handsome slender face that "would attract plenty of girls". He has serious dark-brown eyes and a slightly hard, narrow mouth, maybe a side-effect of his exposure to the world of espionage and assassination. Rider is well-built and slim, his slender frame hiding great strength and speed. Rider also has a tan, another side-effect of his exposure to the world of espionage and the travelling he has done (and his love and skill in extreme outdoor sports). Rider has a birthmark on his left shoulder. Rider is extremely fit and has the body of an athlete, which is noticeable but not dangerously so. Rider often wears casual clothing, alternating between jeans and trousers, t-shirts and short sleeved shirts, boxers and trainers. Rider permanently wears a small wooden bead necklace. Due to his experiences, Rider often seems older than he really is.**

**Talents:**** Rider is an extremely intelligent individual. At the age of fifteen he took several Mensa Intelligent Quotient (IQ) standardised tests, managing to get an average of 163, making him an exceptionally gifted boy. Rider took his General Certificates for Secondary Education (GCSEs) along with his AS (first year of A level) examinations. He is currently awaiting his results. **

**Rider was groomed by his uncle from an early age (to be a spy, most likely) from the day he could walk. As a result, Rider is quite skilled in many areas. He is known to partake in numerous extreme sports such a SCUBA diving, abseiling, mountaineering, snowboarding, kayaking, BASE jumping, skydiving, surfing, quad biking, canoeing, mountain biking, hang gliding and numerous forms of shooting sports. He is skilled at all of them, although due to the fact that he is still a student, Rider only does these sports a few times a year. Rider does quite a number of normal sports as well, including tennis, football, snooker, basketball and skateboarding. Rider is an excellent athlete, a fast sprinter and he can maintain as steady speed over long distance runs. Rider sometimes plays these sports for local clubs. In addition to the martial arts skills listed below, it was Rider's uncle who first taught him about pick pocketing, the human mind and slight of hand.**

**Rider, thanks once again to his uncle, is multilingual. He is known to be able to read, write and speak in fluent Gaelic (Irish), Spanish, French, German, Italian, Japanese, Russian, Cantonese, Mandarin, Arabic and Greek. It should be noted that Rider mastered the last five languages after his uncle's death. Like all members of his family, Rider seems to have a talent for languages.**

**The last of Rider's talents, and the one that has been most useful to him, is his exceptional martial arts skills, especially for one so young. From the age of five, Rider's uncle enrolled him into a Bujinkan Ninjutsu dojo, located just out of London. The basic curriculum of the dojo is publicised, but Bujinkan maintains a very secretive database of its students that has proven hard to get at. It is because of this the true extent of Rider's abilities are unknown. However, the basic outlines of the course Rider is studying are known. Because the Bujinkan Course is so extensive, Rider has many years, decades even, ahead of him before he can graduate and earn his **_**menkyo kaiden**_** (literally translates to "License of transmission"; it is given for one who has learned all there is to learn). **

**The course Ian Rider enrolled his nephew in was the Thirty-Six Teachings – this includes the **_**Ninja Júhakkei**_** (18 Ninjutsu Skills) and the **_**Bugei Júhappan**_** (18 Samurai Fighting Art Skills). The system of grading at Rider's dojo is slightly different than what is commonly used in other Bujinkan dojos. While other dojos start with the 9 **_**kyú**_** (grades), followed by the black **_**dan**_** (grade/degree) – of which there are fifteen in total before the level of **_**menkyo kaiden**_** is reached – Rider's dojo has adopted the **_**Iga-ryú**_** system of classification. The martial arts practitioners are divided into three classes: high/master ninja (**_**Jonin**_**), middle/experienced ninja (**_**Chunin**_**), and low/beginner ninja (**_**Genin**_**). This might have been done to reduce competitiveness. It should be noted that this is the same course Rider's father and uncle took, and both managed to reach the level of **_**Tokubetsu Chunin**_** (Highly skilled/special middle-class ninja). **

**According to recent surveillance, Rider is set to travel to a place just outside Tokyo, Japan, to meet Hatsumi Masashi, Bujinkan Ninjutsu **_**Sóke**_** (in Japanese culture the surname is said first; **_**sóke**_** translates to Grandmaster/Headmaster). According to what is known about Bujinkan Ninjutsu, a shinobi only travels to the **_**sóke**_** when the practitioner is a **_**yondan**_** (fourth grade black belt) and is about to be promoted to a **_**godan**_** (fifth grade black belt). It should be noted that practitioners are only advanced up a grade based on the **_**collective amount of skills they have mastered**_**, not simply one set of skills i.e. like only mastering the physical aspects of ninjutsu and not the intellectual. For a better understanding of what Rider has supposedly learnt, I would recommend the reader of this report to go onto the online encyclopaedia, Wikipedia, and reading the articles on **_**Ninjutsu**_**, **_**Ninja Júhakkei**_**, **_**Bugei Júhappan**_**, **_**Iga-ryú**_**, and **_**Bujinkan**_**. Rider's **_**sensei**_** (teacher/master/instructor) is the same one who taught Rider's father and uncle, and holds a **_**menkyo kaiden**_**. This is one of the reasons why information has been hard to get. The sensei is obviously very dangerous.**

**All of this combined information serves to prove that Rider was being groomed for espionage work. This choice of discipline, the shinobi way, proved that. After all, the meaning of the term ninja was to endure all of life's hardships using the skills available. Unfortunately, like all teenagers in this day, Rider is not patriotic. But then again, Rider has been manipulated by the system enough times to have good reason not to be patriotic.**

**Personality:**** Rider is a very independent person, most likely as a result of his parentless upbringing. Rider has a good-hearted personality and is a generally nice person, something that seems to have survived his contact with the cold world of espionage. Rider is very mature for his age, has shown good intuition, and handles situations with the care of an adult. Rider is generally polite and well-spoken, but when provoked he has shown to be a very quick-witted individual with a good sense of humour, things he uses to make jokes (perhaps to calm himself) during difficult situations to mock the appearance and characteristics of his opposition.**

**Relationships:**** Jack Starbright is the person closest to Rider. She is of American origin. Ian Rider employed her as a housekeeper when his nephew turned seven. Jack came to the United Kingdom to study Law, English and Art at Cambridge University. She was eighteen years old at the time. Since Ian Rider's death, Jack has been Alex's legal guardian. She is very protective of Rider, and their relation is more that of a big sister and brother than a housekeeper and a teenager. In the nine years she has been in the United Kingdom, Jack has only had two long term relationships. She hasn't had any other long term relationship (at the writing of this report) for three years. She is of average height, slim, has tangled red hair, blue eyes and a pretty boyish face. Jack is fluent in French, Spanish, German and Japanese, a result of Ian Rider's influence as well as her choice of learning courses. Jack also happens to be a **_**sandan**_** (third grade black belt) in Aikido and a **_**nidan**_** (second grade black belt) in Karate. Despite this, she felt quite useless when Rider was away on missions. This put a strain on their relationship for half a year, up to the point where Jack nearly left Rider to go back to the United States as the stress was getting too much for her to handle. Fortunately for Rider, he did not get involved with the Military Intelligence, Section 6 Special Operations Division (MI6 SOD) after his run in with Major Winston Yu. The two are now closer than ever.**

**Sabina Pleasure is another person who shares a relationship with Rider. It is primarily to her that Rider has shown an interest in, where females are concerned. Sabina met Rider at the Wimbledon Tennis Championships. She later helped resuscitate Rider after he'd had a run in with Chinese Triads in Cornwall. (Rider left England then and went to Skeleton Key with CIA agents.) She later invited him on holiday to the south of France. It was here her father was nearly killed while investigating multi-billionaire Damian Cray. These events led Rider to investigate Cray and ended in Cray's death. Sabina and her family moved to San Francisco. Sabina Pleasure has dark hair, blue eyes and a light dab of freckles on her nose. Sabina is a long distance runner and physically very fit. She loves rude jokes. Her father is called Edward Pleasure and her mother is called Elizabeth "Liz" Pleasure. She is a capable martial artist, a **_**nidan**_** (second grade black belt) with years of Tai chi chuan (commonly called Tai Chi) training. Sabina Pleasure has in the past shown romantic feelings toward Rider, but after Rider's run in with Major Winston Yu, when she visited Rider for a few weeks, Sabina has not had, apart from a few scattered emails, contact with Rider for two years. Sabina is a year older than Rider.**

**Rider is known to be school friends with Tom Harris. The two are quite close, Tom Harris going as far as to help Rider get into a SCORPIA compound in Venice. Jerry Harris, Tom Harris' brother, is also known to have had contact with Rider. The true depth of these two relationships is not regarded highly, though, as Rider would have too much sense to drag two innocent people into the deadly world of espionage.**

xxx

The restaurant was in Knightsbridge. It was a small establishment, clean and obscure. It was located in the middle of the street, flanked on both sides by much bigger and brighter establishments. It did not have a sign on the front to say what it was called, simply a small blue flower. It was an iris. The men and women who walked in and out of the restaurant all looked the same, dressed as they were in grey and black suites, carrying black briefcases which undoubtedly contained boring paperwork, their expressions blank. In a posh neighbourhood like Knightsbridge where appearances mattered, the restaurant was avoided like the plague.

The restaurant, which was called – surprise, surprise – The Iris, was actually one of the many meeting venues in and around London where intelligence officials met. From field agents and analysts to department heads and politicians, The Iris catered for them all in the utmost secrecy. Each member of the crew had to go through a dozen security checks to be simply considered for employment, and then on top of great culinary skills, the prospective employee had to have basic combat training before they were recruited. In a place where some of the most important people in the United Kingdom might meet, protection was second only to secrecy.

Alan Blunt sat on a two seat table. As usual, he wore a grey suit, his hair was still the same shade of grey, his grey eyes were still emotionless, his grey glasses looked as boring and immaculate as ever and his life still looked basically grey. He hadn't changed a bit in the years he had risen to the position of Head of Special Operations. Opposite him sat a middle aged man whose temples were tinged with grey but whose hair was still relatively black. The man's eyes were an intense blue. His face was weather-beaten and his cheeks had the crease marks of a man who laughed regularly. He wore a floral Hawaiian shirt, a pair of khaki shorts and white loafers with no socks on. He was wearing wire framed corrective spectacles. His white teeth gleamed as he smiled at Alan Blunt.

"Are you sure you don't want to try the wine? It's excellent!"

"I'm sure, thank you," Blunt murmured. He looked down at the seemingly innocent manila folder on the table. He had read the contents three times, just to make sure he'd understood and also to memorise the facts.

"Why so grey, Alan?" the man asked cheerily as he downed his glass of a three hundred year old wine like it was water. He refilled his glass to the brim. With his background, he could afford it.

"What am I to make of this?" Blunt asked the man.

The man shrugged. "You should have known this would come to bite you in the arse one day, Alan old chap," he said with the same cheeriness. "The government might give the public the idea that it's banding together in such times like these where the world has grown much more dangerous, but men like us know better. SS and SIS will always compete against each other for the Prime Minister's and the Cabinet's ears. DIS and the MoD will always secretly be plotting against the two agencies. Last but not least, JIC will always be too busy politicking and bickering among their selves to make fast and necessary decisions when they are needed. That's why people like you have jobs to begin with, Alan my man. This country needs intelligent, informed men to make the decisions other people won't."

"What am I to make of this?" Blunt asked once again.

"Make of it what you will, Alan," the man replied. "But the fact that, and I think you will pardon the cliché, but the fact that the world has been saved seven times by a fourteen year old boy in the course of eight months really ticked off quite a few of the Powers That Be. As expected, Pam's agents had no trouble digging into SIS affairs, and once they found their golden nugget … well, you know how this game is played."

"Indeed," Blunt agreed. "But the question is what is JIC going to do?"

"I'm afraid this is one of the few times JIC might actually act. But thank god for you and your SOD they can't act directly, especially after the Prime Minister and several high ranking officials vouched for your boy after what he did at that Chapel, what with saving all the 12-14 year olds in Britain. But this is still politics and that boy is trouble. Your use, or rather abuse, of him has made him a potential security leak that could really prove disastrous not only for Britain, but for the U.S.A as well. Joe Byrne used him as well, didn't he? It was a couple of times, actually."

Blunt nodded. "Yes. It was the Sarov incident, at Skeleton Key and at Murmansk. And then it was the Drevin incident; Ark Angel. So what is JIC planning?"

"Anything from your resignation, the boy's termination, to a complete shut-down and overhaul of SOD. It's anybody's guess, really. It's understandable why you did what you did, using the boy, but we live in an ethics driven twenty-first century. One leak of this to the media and we'll be screwed every which way from Sunday."

"Charming," Blunt actually joked. Things were definitely serious.

"It's the truth," the man said as he downed his glass and refilled once again. "There is going to be a reckoning for this, and if I were you I would get that boy on my side. His profile is highly interesting. If only all our agents could be like him…"

"Ian was always a smart man," Blunt murmured as he looked down at the manila folder. He looked back up again at the man. "Where did the boy's profile come from?" Blunt knew what the answer was but he still needed confirmation.

"Pam," the man said. "She was doing a little Irish jig last time I saw her. SIS looks like a house of cards at the moment, and she's the wicked wind of the west. What are you going to tell your boss?"

"The truth," Blunt said. "The boss already knows quite a lot, but this profile will definitely be of interest. The boy has been of more help than he knows. He's cracked open SCORPIA, killed two of their executives and enriched our information database over his short career. The boss is actually a little infatuated with the boy, if you ask me. SIS will deal with the fall-out when it comes. But what's interesting me more than the infighting is this new organisation you've compiled information about."

"It's hardly hardcore facts," the man scoffed. "More like rumours I've collected. But what we know about this organisation is enough to warrant careful treading and more investigation. Last time I checked, this particular business would fall under SIS and SOD jurisdiction."

"Yes," Blunt said. "Thank you for the tip."

"Tips," the man said. "Plural. You're an old friend, Alan old bean! Besides, you were always more fun to be around than that scary wife of yours, Pam!"

xxx

- SS is the Security Service, which is also known as Military Intelligence, Section 5 (MI5). It would seem that the Head of MI5 is Pamela Blunt, Alan Blunt's wife.

- SIS is the Secret Intelligence Service, which is also known as Military Intelligence, Section 6 (MI6). SOD is Special Operations Division, which is headed by Alan Blunt.

- MI5 and MI6, HQ located at Thames House and Vauxhall Cross respectively, in London, have always had a rivalry. The fact the Pamela Blunt is the Head of MI5 and Alan Blunt is Head of SOD is quite interesting as such conundrums are usually avoided by those in power. MI5's parent agency, the Home Office, and MI6's parent agency, the Foreign and Commonwealth Office, would have had to have very good reasons to allow a couple to work like this.

- DIS is the Defence Intelligence Staff, which is an element of the MoD – Ministry of Defence – is responsible for collecting and assessing all-source intelligence for the preparation of intelligence products and advice to government policy. DIS advises the MoD and the Foreign and Commonwealth Office, ergo MI6. DIS is usually filled with militaristically minded people, where as MI5 and MI6 is filled with spies. The two types of people rarely get on.

- JIC is the Joint Intelligence Committee for the U.K. Its main function is to produce definitive top-level all-source assessments for U.K ministers and senior officials. JIC also agrees (provided the Ministers agree) the requirements and priorities of MI6 and GCHQ (Government Communications Headquarters), and it informs the work of MI5 and DIS. Most of the positions on the committee are held by proven civilians/senior officials/politicians. This is sometimes balanced by the fact that the Heads of MI5, MI6, DIS and representatives of the MoD have seats on the committee. However, the Heads and the representatives are still outnumbered as they refuse to work together most of the times, and when they do agree with each other their courses of action always differ.

xxx

California. A sunny place filled with the rich men and women of U.S.A. Unlike all of the Americans seen in Europe, the obese ones who look like their food has been piped in to their rooms all their lives and now they've been shipped off to Europe to go clog up Art Galleries, Americans in California, especially in Los Angeles and the obvious Hollywood, look like they've just stepped out of a movie. It's filled with exiguous men and women who look like they can't even support the weight of their own teeth. Healthy, tanned men and women were everywhere, always rushing and at the same time looking unhurried. The teenagers might as well have been the cast of "High School Musical". Gorgeous blondes and brunettes strutted around in the kind of outfits and with the kind of attitude that made grown men want to do things that were definitely illegal in every country of the world. The boys weren't any better, of course, what with their "give-me-what-ya-got" attitude to society simply to attract the girls they wanted. It was kind of a mating dance. A sick, twisted, horny, annoying, pathetic and completely disgusting mating dance. But it worked. They even made a TV advert about it. Got the above skills/qualities? _"The only question is when can you start?"_

Sabina loved it. For her, L.A represented a life she had never thought possible. Britain was all well and good, but L.A was where all the action was. It was reputed to be home to the nastiest stuff in the U.S.A and she loved it! Her dad, as usual, was up to no good writing a story. Her mum had decided to spoil herself whilst they were in L.A by going to all the shopping malls and beauty spas she could afford. Edward had hidden all the credit and debit cards that had more than a two thousand dollar limit. As for Sabina, she had an uncanny talent for wheedling money out of her parents.

Sabina felt hands encircle he waist. "Hey," a male voice said. Sabina smiled, turned around in the arms of the teenager and put her arms around his neck.

"What took you so long?" she asked. She gave him a peck on the mouth. "I was starting to think you'd run off with one of those Puerto Rican girls you keep eyeing on the beach."

"I would never!" the guy said. "They all have boyfriends," he added sourly. Sabine laughed.

"Serves you right. Now come on, we have shopping to do!"

"Ugh," the guy groaned. "I thought your parents weren't giving you any more money."

"A girl has her ways," Sabina said wiggling her eyebrows.

"Ugh," the guy groaned again. "Men weren't made for shopping."

"Be a man and suck it up!" Sabina said sharply as she led him away. The guy's expression flickered for a moment. In that instant a certain sixteen year old boy might have recognised him by the hard set of his shoulders. This sixteen year old boy would have recognised this hard set as a habit the guy always got just before lashing out, usually killing something. The two had met once, on an isolated island called Malagasto. But after a second the guy's guise slipped back on and he followed Sabina Pleasure shopping whilst counting off the time until the completion of his mission.

xxx

_One week earlier…_

Alex took in a deep breath. Tokyo. _Eastern capital_. That was what the name meant. It was such a large place. With twenty-three special wards or municipalities – formally known as _Tokubetsu ku_ (special wards) and more commonly known as _nijúsan-ku_ (twenty-three wards), Tokyo – Greater Tokyo and Tokyo Metropolis – is one of the biggest cities in the world. He had come to Japan five times with his uncle, twice to Tokyo, once to Osaka, once to the island of Kyushu and once to the island of Shikoku. Technically the twenty-three wards were cities in their own right, but they all added together to make what was known as the city of Tokyo. With such a large area, one thing Tokyo couldn't do without was its Yamanote Line, the railway that went round most of inner city Tokyo. This was what he would be using to get around for most of the day until he left for the dojo.

"It's so … crowded."

Alex turned round, a big smile on his face. "This is Tokyo, Jack. It's always crowded. But isn't it just beautiful?"

"It certainly looks … flashy," Jack commented. Alex laughed again. Jack was surprised. Alex had rarely been this expressive in a while. He had gone back to being same old silent Alex after his run in with Major Winston Yu. To see him like this, laughing and smiling, happy, brought a smile to her face.

"That's only because we're in one of the more posh neighbourhoods. We're in _Akasaka_ right now, and I recommend we find a hotel before we do any more exploring."

"Exploring?" Jack asked incredulously. "You're apparently fighting the last living ninja in about eight hours' time. Shouldn't you be, like, you know, preparing? Your uncle used to do it all the time, all those breathing exercises, refining his spirit and whatnot."

"And yet I can't help but notice that I'm alive and he's not," Alex said dismissively. Jack's mouth opened in shock at what Alex had just said. But then Alex turned to her, a smile on his face. "I'm only joking, Jack. Calm down. There is ample time to prepare. But I'm a teenager as well and I want to explore! I've never been shopping in _Harajuku_ before. That's the teen district. All kinds of fun things are supposed to be there. I want to take you to _Roppongi_, maybe tomorrow night, I know you'll like it, and then now we can maybe go to _Aoyama_ and _Ginza_ and _Yúrakuchó_."

"You're a bit excited," Jack commented.

"There's always been something about Tokyo that makes me feel alive," Alex said. "Maybe it's the sheer amount of people there are, or the many things you can see and do. Tokyo is always full of new things."

"Well then, let's go." After booking into a hotel, Alex took Jack around Tokyo for five hours, going from place to place, doing all the annoying things tourists do. Alex was glad to see Jack actually enjoying herself. He would give her instructions later on how to access the Tokyo nightlife. She needed some relaxation time. She spoke perfect Japanese and her katakana, kanji and hiragana weren't half bad. She would enjoy herself. She deserved it.

x

Five hours later they were back in their two bedroom suite. Alex had just finished having a shower and was now wearing his uniform. He started stretching and warming up his limbs.

"Why can't I go with you?" Jack asked still pouting.

"Because you're not a Bujinkan student and therefore you're likely to be injured."

"Hey, I know martial arts!" Jack said.

"It's not that," Alex said as he jogged on the spot. "When entering Hatsumi _sóke_'s dojo, everyone is required to play "dodge-the-extra-sharp-five-foot-katana" game. I've been prepared by _sensei_ and you haven't. Whenever the sword is unsheathed, it has to taste blood or _sóke_ will be shamed. I don't think you get to be a shinobi grandmaster by being full of shame."

"Sounds way too dangerous to me for simple black belt advancement," Jack grumbled.

Alex laughed. "When have things ever been simple?" he asked.

x

Alex stood outside the dojo. He took in one deep breath before entering. He bowed on his way in. All around the dojo, shinobi were sat down with folded legs, their eyes blank. There was no space for him to sit. There was only one option. He walked forward and sat in the middle of the dojo. He waited in silence for hours. No one moved. No one dared breathe loudly. His _sensei_ was supposed to be here but he couldn't see him. He shouldn't have been surprised by that. After all, shinobi weren't meant to be seen.

And then suddenly the hairs on the back of Alex's neck shivered. He'd developed a fine intuition, which had been honed when he was fourteen during his missions for MI6. He had never ignored it and he wasn't about to start now. Since he had one hundred and eighty degree vision at that moment, it was only logical that whatever was happening was from behind. In one fluid, lightning fast movement Alex got up from his sitting position and leapt forward. He heard the whistle of something sharp cutting air just behind him. As he landed he turned round. There, a foot from where he had been sitting stood a white haired, frail looking man. He was wearing black clothes, his _gi_. He held a shining metal katana that looked sharp enough to shave with. Suddenly Alex felt apprehension. Maybe Jack was right. This was too much to simply gain a new level of recognition. This man in front of him was a grandmaster with decades of skill and experience. He only had eleven years worth of skill and experience. He was excellent with a sword, but his sensei was better. His sensei had graduated from this man before him. This was the same man who had been quoted saying, "Be able to kill all your students." Alex was in no illusion. There was no possible way he could avoid that sword for long.

But one of his annoying traits was how determined he could be. He never gave up. He wasn't going to start now.

He bowed. "_Sóke_," he said respectfully. Grandmaster. As he got up from the bow, he simply shifted his body to the right. He felt the sword pass bare millimetres from him. He moved forward, his right hand reaching for the sóke's right hand. Masashi-san seemed to melt into the air, his form a blur, and the next thing Alex knew the sóke was five feet away. His technique had been neutralised even before he had executed it. Shit. This was going to be fun … not.

x

_Two hours later…_

"Welcome, Alex-kun," Masashi-san said softly.

"It is a pleasure to be here, sóke," Alex replied. His body was sore from all the exercises the sóke had made him do, but for all that he was pleased with himself. He had performed to his best standards.

"You are an eager shinobi from what your sensei tells me. As talented as your father and uncle from what I observed and maybe even more so."

"You knew my father and uncle?"

"I tested them like I am testing you now." Alex did not enquire as to what this meant. He sat in silence until the sóke gathered his thoughts. "You are a problem, Alex-kun. I know you possess the skills necessary to be _godan_, or _chunin_ as your sensei calls it. But I am not sure of your heart. I have friends in the _Kempeitai_, the Japanese Secret Service, and I have heard rumours about you. Your father and uncle both killed by a terror organisation, you yourself threatened by them. I am wondering how long you're going to live your life before you snap and turn into one of them."

Alex was speechless. But then again he was talking to a shinobi grandmaster. He shouldn't be surprised that his entire life was an open book. "I have not worked with MI6 for over two years," Alex answered. "I never wanted to and I never will. All I want is to lead a normal life. Spying is not for me. I did what I did at the time because I had no choice, or at least I had no choice I thought a suitable solution."

"What do you want to do when you grow up?"

Alex blinked at the seemingly random question. "I'm not sure," he finally said. "I had thought of being a professional sportsman but I am now against the option. Instead I want to be a scholar of some kind, perhaps be a professor of Language and History. I have often wondered about Japanese history and would enjoy spending a few years here studying it and maybe document it. I have seen too much violence and mayhem to want to be a part of it."

"But you have the skills to stop that violence. Your father and your uncle had the skills as well and they went out and did their best to stop it. Why don't you?"

Alex was confused. "So you want me to be a spy?" The sóke's hand blurred forward and Alex bit back a cry of pain as he was hit on the head. Hard. His vision went blurry.

"That is not what I said," the sóke said. "Do not presume." "Being drawn into that world might make you into an assassin of some kind, something you obviously don't aspire to be. But not doing something is against both your nature and training. We shinobi are trained to be humane and be in tune with nature above all things, otherwise most shinobi would simply use their skills to conquer weaker men. You have the power to do something but you're not going to do anything. If you do decide to do something, however, you know you will turn against those who have used you, be it in a day, a week or a year. When you do, you will hurt both the good and bad people."

"An impasse," Alex murmured as his eyes refocused.

"Indeed" The sóke went quiet for several minutes. "You are now a _godan_ level shinobi," he suddenly said. "But I want you to come back and we shall continue this conversation after you have had some time to think." He paused. "It's never too early to plan for the future," the sóke added with a twinkle in his eyes.

"_Hai, sóke_," Alex said. "_Arigatou_." Yes, Grandmaster. Thank you. Alex touched his forehead to the floor. When he raised his head the sóke was gone. He smiled. _I've got to learn how to do that_, he thought. _It's so cool_. He stood up and left the sóke's private study and made his way back to the hotel.

x

Masashi-san walked into his private garden. It was nearly midnight. There was no moon in the sky and very little stars. This did not deter Masashi-san at all. He was getting old anyway. He did not rely on his sense of vision. He was a true wraith, a tribute to his ninja title of Grandmaster as he glided through his garden without disturbing even one creature. He stopped by a strawberry plant and plucked one. It was quite sweet, but not sweet enough. He needed it just right for his special home-made fruit flavoured pie. They always sold well in Tokyo, at his surgery.

"You really don't think I can't sense you, do you?" the sóke said as he examined his shrubbery and herbs. For a second there was silence.

"I had hoped I had gotten better, sensei." For the first time in decades, the sóke was truly shocked. Masashi-san slowly stood up from his crouch and faced the direction of the voice. His face was blank.

"I thought you would be a little more welcoming, sensei," the voice said.

"That was always your problem," Masashi-san said. "You presumed too much. You are not the prodigal son returning home."

"… You're right. Please forgive me."

"What do you want?" Masashi-san asked.

"Just one bit of information. The boy who just left. What grade is he?"

"According to his sensei, the boy is a _chunin_," Masashi-san replied nonchalantly. Bujinkan did not use this method of grading so it would most likely mean nothing to the man. The other man looked at the sóke with hard eyes for a second before smiling.

"Thank you," he said. So he knew what that meant. Shit.

"Why do you want to know?" Masashi-san asked.

"I'm afraid he turned out rather different to what I had expected." The man turned around, and for a second his body was visible; blond hair; close cropped hair; smooth face; clear, hard blue eyes; expressionless face with almost feminine eyelashes; chiselled lips; and a long thin scar on his neck. In the next second the man had been swallowed by the shadows. The sóke sighed. He looked in the distance and saw the lights of Tokyo. He suddenly felt the presence that had been itching at him disappear. The man was gone. Masashi-san shook his head and went back to his gardening.

xxx

"I can't wait to meet your parents, Jack," Alex said.

"Why is that?"

"To see the man and woman who brought you into this world … my money is on them having early onset dementia."

"Ha, ha," Jack said sarcastically. "Aren't you Mr. Hilarious?" Alex smiled and the two walked out of the airport.

"So why are they in L.A again?" Alex asked. "Not that I'm not happy to spend a week in sunny California."

"Why else would people be in L.A?" Jack asked. "Vacation."

"I'm sure there are other things to do besides tourism in California…" Alex shut up as Jack gave him the glare. They'd both seen the TV advertisement back in Britain. It had the governor of California in it, good old Arnold Schwarzenegger. He even said the catchy line at the end. "The only question is _when can you start?_" "Fine, you might have a point," Alex said with a frown. He did not like losing arguments to Jack. Verbal sparring was a game between the two.

The two got to their hotel and left their language. From there they took another taxi into downtown L.A, passing the Santa Ana Freeway. Their destination was, of course, Little Tokyo. Like Alex, it seemed Jack's parents had a thing for South-east Asia. In the previous week they had been in Chinatown. Alex had seen Echo Park on their way there and couldn't wait to go explore the first suburbs of L.A. He wanted to go to MacArthur Park later on. The sun was shining and the seemingly evergreen tress and lake would look lovely. Perfect place to pick up some birds. If his friend Tom found out he'd been to sunny California and hadn't even sampled the local delights… Well, it would be a hard few weeks.

"So how was your night alone in Tokyo?" Alex asked nonchalantly.

"Fine," Jack answered. "Tiring. Drunk. There were so many things to do. I was glad to fall into bed and sleep. Thanks for not waking me up."

"No problem," Alex said. "I'm glad you had fun." He paused. "You know," he added with a feigned expression of confusion, "The funny thing is that I came back earlier than expected, so I went straight to bed so I wouldn't spoil your night. Maybe it was the exhaustion, but I swear I heard you come in at around midnight – and for about thirty minutes there odd sounds vibrating through my wall – and then I think I heard you leave. You came back two hours later; I know that for sure because you checked up on me. Hmm … it was very strange." Alex continued walking, a small smile on his face. Jack stopped as her face went white with shock. Now this was awkward. Alex, who was nine years her junior and more like a friend and a little brother, had just confessed to her he knew that she'd … had some back in Tokyo. Ahead, Alex started laughing. Jack's cheeks started to turn the colour of her hair. Alex turned round. He winked.

"I didn't think some so _old_ would still have it in them, Jack," he taunted. "But I guess you proved me wrong." He laughed again as Jack's cheeks brightened by another ten degrees. "I can't help but wonder what kind of example you're setting, seeing as you're my legal guardian. I mean the charges that could be levelled against you. The simple fact of what people might say about you if they found out … well, I guess it's a good thing I'm a not a snitch, right Jack?" He had just ensured a month or so of free reign. Blackmail initiated. He was proud to be a ninja.

xxx

Sabina and her new boyfriend were walking in MacArthur Park. Sexy mums in loose fitting but surprisingly revealing tracksuits ran past or rollerbladed past or cycled past, trying to recapture the looks of their lost High School years. Sabina looked up at her boyfriend and found him gazing into the distance, in the direction of Little Tokyo. He looked far away. Sabina was then reminded that they had only been going out for a few days. It already seemed like ages. She couldn't remember how it had happened. One night they were at a party. It was one of Sabina's friend's from High School. He had been there, looking bored and trying to enjoy himself at the same time. There was something about him that had caught her eye. She couldn't put her finger on it, but it was there, pulling her in like a magnet. She'd started talking to him then. He said his name was Klaus. He was four years older than her. While he should have been at college parties, one of his friends had dragged him here. By the end of the night they were both drunk, unsurprisingly, and he's stuck his tongue down her throat many a time.

But unlike most boys at parties, he did call back the next day. By the end of their shopping and exploring afternoon they'd decided to try a relationship. They both had so much in common. Sometimes she actually thought he could read her mind.

"Penny for your thoughts?" Sabina asked. Klaus turned to look at her. His facial expression scared simply because he didn't have one. It was like looking at a corpse. And then suddenly there was a spark of life behind those black eyes and he smiled.

"Sorry," he said. "I was just thinking."

"What about?" Sabina asked. Klaus shook his head and didn't answer. Sabina decided to back off. After all, they'd only know each other for barely a week. These things took time, right? Sabina and Klaus started strolling in the Park. Sabina had one hand around Klaus' back, the other in the pocket of her denim shorts. As her eyes scanned the Park, she was lost in thought. Her eyes were unfocused as she let Klaus lead her. She looked at the lake. It was rippling in the gentle L.A wind. She almost missed him. Almost.

He was standing alone, looking down into the lake. Even though many people were passing by, he looked alone. His fair hair, still the same short length, moved with the wind. He looked tanned and she briefly wondered if it was because of the early summer vacation of Year Elevens or something far less happy and normal. He was wearing a black polo neck, its collar thick around his neck. He had on a pair of black trousers held at the waist by a black leather belt with a silver buckle. He wore flat, white soled black trainers. The soles were surprisingly clean considering this was downtown L.A and the streets weren't exactly winning the Cleanest Neighbourhood Award. On top of his clothes he wore a black-grey trench coat that came down to his knees. He only had the middle three buttons done, leaving his neck, clavicle area and south of his belt visible. She noticed once again that he was wearing a small wooden bead necklace.

It had only been just over two years since she last saw him, one year since they last talked, but he had changed. Physically he looked the similar but it was _presence_ that felt different. She had nearly overlooked him. He seemed older. Looking at him now, if she didn't know him, she'd have said he was at least twenty. It felt just like the last time she'd seen. When he'd opened the door to his house in Chelsea, despite being a little shorter than her, she'd been struck by how much older he seemed compared to her. His eyes had been impassive for a second, and in that second she had been struck with the impression that there were things he'd seen he wanted to forget. Pain. That was the word for it. He'd been in pain. Looking over the lake at him she could still see it. Her mouth was suddenly dry. There he was, the person in her past she had tried to forget because of the danger that seemed to follow him around like a plague. _Alex Rider_.

As if hearing her thoughts Alex suddenly looked up.

xxx

Alex had been reminiscing about the past. So much of his life was screwed up. Because of his uncle he now possessed skills that might as well shout out SPY! He was smart, but loads of kids were smart. No, it was the fact that he could do extreme sports like a professional. It was the fact that he was a ninja. To most people nowadays it would probably make him sounded like a dreamer, someone who sat and fantasised about being a supernatural being. But being a ninja wasn't about flying or whatever it is Hollywood decided to say. The word _Nin_, as is ninja, from Ninjutsu was written in Japanese, in Kanji, comprised of two characters; the upper one reads Katana – which means blade – and the lower one reads Kokoro – which means heart or spirit. Put together they meant stealth, secret-ness, endurance and perseverance. The word _Jutsu_, from Ninjutsu, meant true or technique. People thought that ninjutsu was either about mythical people from feudal Japan who could do magic or that it only meant stealth and secrecy. This couldn't be further from the truth. You only had to study it to know that ninjutsu was about utilising the knowledge you had to survive life and all the shit it through at you.

His eight months working for MI6, doing their dirty work had scarred him. He could never look at life the same. Studying ninjutsu from an early age had made him harder, true, but it was still an innocent hardness. He knew there were dangers but he wasn't actually living those dangers. MI6 had forced him to use every scrap of knowledge he had to survive. After every incident they treated him like an inferior person, patronised him by making everything sound like normal circumstance and then they got rid of him until the next time they needed him. By the end he had found he couldn't properly integrate into normal life anymore. He had developed a certain pessimistic and sarcastic streak that just leapt out of him sometimes. He had gotten over that soon enough, but deep down inside he knew it was there, waiting. No matter what Alan Blunt said Alex was sure his parents and his uncle had never intended for him to be brought into MI6's world so early in life, if at all. Alex found it hard for a guardian to want that life for anyone.

Alex suddenly looked up. Danger was nearby. Alex would have loved to have something as obvious and as helpful as spider senses that tingled but he had to do with the intuition he'd developed over the years. Jack was with her parents exploring L.A. She'd be with them for the rest of the day. He'd assured her he'd be fine. He could go around L.A on his own and explore. He'd been invited to join them, of course, but he didn't want to intrude on Jack's private life. After finding out from ASIS about what had happened to Alex and how'd prevented Washington DC from blowing up and killing everyone, Alex saw the haunted look in Jack's eyes. She had never thought about losing her parents prematurely. She needed to reassure herself that everything was alright. She needed to spend time with them before she calmed down again.

Alex frowned. What was wrong? He surreptitiously looked around, not moving his head and letting his eyes absorb as much detail as they could. It was one of the things he was being taught by his sensei. A warrior might only have a second of calm to survey the battlefield and so he needed to be able to see and memorise all before he dived into the fray. Alex scanned the opposite bank as a likely place. All the time his mind was panicking. He couldn't be going back into that shady world, could he? He saw nothing. His frown depended. He searched slowly this time. He instantly saw what had triggered the alarms in his head and he also recognised his mistake.

Opposite him was a girl he hadn't been in contact with for a while now. It wasn't out of choice. He simply realised that she might not want anything to do with him, especially after how he always got her involved in bad situations. She had grown very well. Her dark hair cascaded down to her shoulders. Her smooth skin shone with the intensity only long hours in the sun and healthy living could bring. The freckles on her nose had mostly alleviated, making her seem more grown up than the last time they had met. She wore a white shirt that ended around her diaphragm in a knot. Her flat stomach was exposed for the world to see; she had a belly-button piercing. She wore a pair of blue denim shorts that made your eyes dart south periodically. Her trainers, with pink laces, were impossibly white. So were her teeth. Alex would have liked to stayed still and admire the view – and a view it was – but it was undoubtedly the one had his arm around Sabina that had triggered Alex's sense of alarm.

It was Klaus. From Malagasto. A Scorpia operative. What the hell was he doing here, with Sabina? Something didn't feel right. Alex actually groaned out loud, startling an old couple who had been stood beside him feeding ducks. This had happened before. Something smells fishy, he goes and investigates and the next thing you know - BAM! – He'd be knee high in a substance he'd rather not like to think about, trying to stay alive. For a second Alex actually debated turning around and walking away. This had nothing to do with him. Whatever Scorpia were up to, whether it involved Sabina or not, was none of his business. Besides, Klaus had to have a social life, right? He might have hit it off with Sabina somewhere. There was such a thing as coincidence sometime, right? But then Alex's nature kicked in. He couldn't leave Sabina with a Scorpia operative, no matter their relationship.

He realised that Sabina and he were sharing eye contact. She seemed shocked to see him. As Alex prepared to warn Sabina to run, Klaus turned to look at him. For a minute the German born mercenary seemed shocked to see him. Time seemed to stand still. Klaus put his other arm around Sabina. He jerked her up and sideways, pivoted on his back foot and twirled Sabina so that Sabina had her back to Klaus and Klaus in turn had his back to Alex. Alex's fast mind analyzed what was going on and he felt dread building up in his stomach. Some might have thought this strange. Why did Klaus not simply tighten his grip on Sabina when he saw Alex? That was because Alex wasn't the primary concern at that time. There was someone else who was at that moment more dangerous than Alex. Second of all, Alex realised that Klaus was protecting Sabina with his own body. That meant that Sabina was the "principle". It was Klaus' job to protect Sabina. But from who? Even as Alex judged the angles and worked out from where the danger was coming, he thought he heard a whisper in the air. An instant later Klaus' legs buckled and he fell on top of Sabina. Time resumed its pace.

Alex cursed. He looked in the direction of the shot. Just as he'd guessed, it was a long distance one, probably five hundred metres. But from which direction? He had no hope of working that out unless he knew the entry angle. The sniper was good. He'd fired a lethal shot from a minimum distance of at least five hundred metres and with reduced accuracy on count of having to use a suppressor or silencer of some kind. Alex realised he had no hope of finding the sniper. This left a mortally wounded – hopefully (because dead wouldn't be very useful) – Klaus to pump for information. Alex had seconds, minutes at best, before Klaus died. He had a small lake to cross.

Alex looked around, his eyes taking in every detail of his surroundings. Suddenly he spotted it. Alex ran a hundred metres to where a family were having a barbeque. While sausages and burgers cooked on the grill, two kids who'd gotten bored of and hungry playing were watching TV. Alex's target was the petrol – or gas as the Americans called it – powered generator that allowed the kids to have this luxury. He felt guilty at what he had to do but he had no option. The generator, an expensive MHD, was on a stand. Alex walked past the family, his body signals telling them he was just passing by, which he did. The first pass was so as to see what exactly the generator looked like. After five metres he suddenly turned and walked to the generator. The family was looking the other way, concentrating on the food that was about to be dished out, but that wouldn't the case for long. Alex's hands started working. Within seconds he had set it up right. Now to move on.

All this time a clock was ticking off in Alex's head. It had been twenty seconds since Klaus had been shot. Klaus had been hit in the middle of his back. One of his lungs would definitely be pierced. He was drowning in his own blood at that moment. Alex had to move! He started pushing the stand, it's small wheels bumping against the rough terrain. Alex started running. The cable connecting to the TV came off. The TV stayed on for a few more seconds, precious seconds that helped Alex get away. He reached the back in ten seconds, but that was too much time already. He lifted the heavy generator off the stand. Just next to him was one of those boats couples pedalled across the lake. Alex got in, the generator in his hands, one leg in each compartment. He knelt down, put the generator down in front of him and pushed off the bank. It was hard work and he nearly got caught by the man whose kids had been using the generator to watch TV. But Alex managed to push off and then proceeded to put the generator into the water. At the end, where the rotor was, Alex had stuck the actual rudders of the boat. The moment they touched the water the boat lurched forward.

_Come on!_ Alex thought. _Faster!_ But for all his intelligence and innovation, Alex was still human and not superman. He still had to obey the laws of physics. And so it was half a minute later that he got to the other bank. He had somehow managed to stay dry but that was small comfort. The boat hit the bank hard, harder than Alex had anticipated, and as the chock travelled through him the weight of the compact MHD generator got too much. He dropped it in the water. But he had no time to think about that now. He jumped from the boat and ran toward where Klaus lay.

A minute had passed. Sabina had gotten her senses about her again. She was trying to stem the flow of blood, but it was a useless effort. Klaus had a hole in his body – the bullet had gone through – and Sabina couldn't heal lungs with holes in them. She was trying desperately to cling to sanity. Alex realised that she wasn't used to this kind of stuff. For her the incident with Damian Cray on Air Force One might as well have been one of those random things that happen in life. It was never going to happen to her again. She had convinced herself it wouldn't happen again. She was wrong.

Alex came and knelt opposite Sabina. Because the bullet hadn't broken the sound barrier and had been fired from a distance, no one around Sabina had seen anything wrong. For them a young couple had been holding each other and then thrown themselves to the ground. Even now they didn't pay much attention to Sabina and Alex. For starters this was MacArthur Park and everyone lounged on the ground. Another reason was that this was L.A and downtown was only spitting distance away. People had developed a survival instinct. The golden rule; _Mind your own business!_

Sabina looked at Alex, her eyes red, the tears still coming out. The blame was coming off her in waves. "Alex…" she murmured. Alex recognised the outburst coming. She wanted release. He held up a hand, his face severe.

"Quiet," he commanded. The authority in his voice cut Sabina off. She looked shocked and lost. Alex ignored her for the moment and turned to Klaus. The man still had a pulse but it was ebbing away. Alex unbuttoned his shirt. Klaus had been wearing a bullet-proof. With the distance and logistics involved, Alex realised the sniper had coated his bullets with Teflon. The sniper was also a crack shot, finding the one angle that would be sure to make a definite kill. Alex unzipped the thin piece of Kevlar, allowing Klaus to breathe better. Klaus took in a deep rattling breath and half opened his eyes.

"You … should listen … to little Alex," Klaus stuttered.

Sabina may have been in shock but she was a smart girl. Action was blunting the shock. "You know Alex? How?" Even as she asked, she knew there was only one possible way. MI6.

"Don't … blame … little Alex," Klaus breathed. "For once … he was actually … in the wrong place … at the wrong time."

"What's going on, Klaus?" Alex demanded.

"Sabina … is my principle," Klaus breathed. Alex frowned. Something seemed wrong. "Priority mission." Klaus stopped talking, gathering his energy. "I'm dying, Alex. Take Sabina … please. Take all my … effects off me … the key … apartment … Chinatown …"

Alex waited for the breath he knew wouldn't come. Despite the fact that Klaus had worked for Scorpia, Alex felt a sense of loss. Klaus had been fair to him when they were at Malagasto. The German mercenary, who had only been eighteen at the time, had been closest to Alex in age. The other had been a nineteen girl called Amanda who had been quite friendly. Alex actually slapped himself. He needed to keep his mind focused. MacArthur Park was just west of downtown L.A and so quite there was some gang-on-gang violence that took place. MacArthur Park had a history that had only started to get better and so the LAPD had a section based near there to deal with it. The guy he had just stolen the generator from would call the police. Alex started going through Klaus' pockets, taking everything he found and pocketing it. He then zipped Klaus' Kevlar vest back on and buttoned the shirt up. He looked up to find Sabina staring at him, her eyes blank.

"What was he saying?" she asked softly. Alex blinked. Now he realised what had seemed wrong. Klaus had switched to German when he had been talking. Alex spoke perfect German, and with all the adrenalin pumping through his veins Alex had failed to notice the switch. What was wrong with him? He needed to focus!

"We'll talk later," Alex said. We need to call the police. Do you have a mobile? And we need to get out stories straight. Please, trust me." Sabina looked at him, her face unreadable. After a second she took out a pink Nokia and handed it to him. Alex gave her quick, short instructions on answering the police's questions before dialling 911. He didn't have to bother, though. The guy he'd nicked the generator off had gotten there before him. As he got patched through to the emergency ambulance service he heard the sound of shoes on the grass. They were trying to be stealthy. The cocking of a gun. Safeties off.

"Freeze, asshole!"

_Just what I wanted to hear_, Alex groaned. _Jack's going to kill me_.


	2. New Acquaintances

The cell wasn't all that bad. It was clean. Tidy. Compact. The distinct smell of bleach cut down on the aesthetic factor though. It was probably industrial strength. It had to be. Considering the number of criminals that had passed through the cell, coughing, hawking, bleeding and God knows what else, it was safe to say that heavy duty cleaning was required. The last thing the government needed was to be sued by a criminal of grievous bodily harm. Now there would be a case of serious irony. A lot of cases had been lost that way. With the dawn of the twenty-first century and the sudden fluctuation in lawyers, upholding the citizen's rights had become the watch phrase in every workplace.

Alex was sat down on a bed, legs crossed. He was facing the bars, his posture relaxed, his eyes closed. It wasn't meditating so much as giving his mind something to occupy it or, to be more accurate, something _not_ to occupy it. Alex had never had trouble letting go of the physical world and falling into a trance, but all of a sudden he found every little detail, from coldness of the floor to the material of his clothes, extremely distracting. _Pranayama_, literally meaning breathing exercises, had proved to be of little use. He had refrained from humming a mantra as that might have been perceived as a little … disrespectful. The last thing he wanted to do was to start trouble with the other person sharing his cell. He'd already dealt with some trouble already since being put in the cell.

After being thrown roughly to the ground at MacArthur Park and getting cuffed, Alex and Sabina had been led to a waiting police vehicle. They were bundled inside and driven to the Rampart Community Police Station, located on West Temple Street. They were processed and thrown into a jail cell within ten minutes. All of their possessions were taken from them, and some perverted cop had even gone so far as to _thoroughly_ strip search Sabina, in case she was "concealing" something. Sabina hadn't even blinked. She was still in shock, that much was certain. They had sat in silence for a bit, sitting opposite each other on the bolted down metallic beds. And then Sabina had exploded.

Just as Alex expected.

"What the hell is wrong with you!?!"

Alex had forced himself to keep calm. She was in shock. She didn't know what she was doing, what she was saying. "What do you mean?" he had asked.

"Why do you always have to ruin everything? You and that stupid secret world of yours! Dragging me down with you! I thought I made it clear that I didn't want anything to do with it!"

Alex took three deep breaths. He hadn't expected the accusations to hurt this much. So that's what she thought, was it? "I have nothing to do with this. You heard Klaus-"

"-Jimmy," Sabina had interrupted. "His name is … was … Jimmy!"

"That may be what he told you," Alex had said with a noncommittal shrug, "But his real name is Klaus. He was a German mercenary before he joined Scorpia, which is one of the most dangerous and far-reaching criminal organisations in existence."

"And how do you know this?" She had asked, her eyes teary but unrelenting. "How did you know him?"

"I met him on Malagasto. It's an island where Scorpia trains its operatives." Alex had left it at that. He didn't want to delve into those memories right then, the current situation considered.

"What were you doing there?" Sabina had persisted, and Alex had caught a flicker of something in her eyes. Was it disgust … fear?

"I don't want to talk about it." He used a clipped tone. Big mistake.

"Then what do you want to talk about!?" The shrill voice had returned. "Could you start by explaining to me what the fuck just happened at MacArthur Park? I saw my freaking boyfriend _killed_!"

"Mind your tongue," Alex replied automatically.

He paused. "You might have thought he was your boyfriend," Alex said, "But to him you were only his principle, and his job was to protect you at all costs. Wherever you met him, however it happened, it was all planned. Scorpia have been in the business for decades. They know how to manipulate people, how to manipulate situations. It's what they do. Right now I wouldn't be sitting there shouting at me, if I were you. If I were you-"

"Well, you're not! You have no idea what it feels like to be me, to be in this mess!"

"If I were you," Alex had continued, struggling to keep his voice calm, "I would be wondering why an international organisation sent one of their operatives to get close to you. I would be wondering why an international organisation that specialises in assassination, sabotage, espionage and other atrocities, had made protecting you one of their primary goals. I would be wondering why a sniper, an excellent one at that, had just tried to take you out today inside MacArthur Park, a highly populated area where he would have had a high probability of being discovered. You don't seem to hold a great deal of affection for me at the moment, Sabina, and I understand that, but you cannot deny that we met completely by accident today. I haven't been in contact with you for a year, though not through lack of trying. I have been in Britain all that time, concentrating on my education and trying to lead a normal life. There is no way I could have had anything to do with this. I don't work for MI6 anymore. I haven't for two years. The last time we saw each other, at my house, it was just after the last mission I did. I have left that world behind." Alex paused, trying to block the flood of memories that threatened to overcome him. "Besides, you heard Klaus. I was at the wrong place, at the wrong time. This has nothing to do with me. This is your problem." A tad insensitive, a definite slap in the face, but it was necessary. He needed to shake her out of her shock, and fast. This _was_ her problem. The sooner she accepted that, and the sooner she started thinking clearly, the sooner she could figure out this mess. Whatever their differences, Alex most certainly did not want her life to be in danger.

Feeling suddenly bone weary, Alex had got off his bed and sat down on the floor, in the half lotus. Meditating would be a sure way of loosening up after all the emotions that had been going through him. He needed to relax. If this situation got any worse, he would need to be in full possession of all of his faculties. Whatever was going on with Sabina was sure to be messy, especially with Scorpia involved. It took him maybe half an hour of trying, but finally he felt all the blocks in his mind slip away. His body's posture visibly relaxed as his spine was alleviated from its ramrod straight position. While he meditated, his subconscious started working on just what was going on, and how to get out of their current situation. The stories they had rehearsed had been unnecessary. The policemen had seemed not to be interested in them at all, which in itself was a surprise, seeing as a murder had just taken place. Since no one had been aware of the dying Klaus within the Park, the policemen had to call for an ambulance once they realised why one of the perps they had just been about to arrest was not moving. Alex and Sabina had been taken from the scene way before the ambulance had arrived. Thinking about it, something had seemed strange about the policemen. They were too … calm, too unhurried. With the rate of crime in MacArthur Park in recent years, the surrounding areas, and downtown L.A, Alex had expected them to be a bit more harried, rugged and hardened. After all, a whole precinct had been opened up just to deal with that area. Yes, something was definitely off. And of course there was Klaus. Alex had, as requested by the dying German, thoroughly searched him and relieved him of everything he could find. He'd found a wallet, a golden lighter, a five inch switchblade – the blade was not made of steel but seemed to be formed of a composite replacement which was just as sharp, and had the added benefit of being able to go past any metal detectors –, and a key ring with two keys on it. Alex had known he had very little time in which to act. He had to get rid of anything incriminating. He'd picked up two plastic paper bags that had been blowing by in the gentle wind. The wallet and the knife went into the first one, and after that was sealed tightly, they went into the second plastic bag. He'd chucked them into the lake, weighted down by a few stones. He could not afford to be as blasé about the keys, though. He needed to make sure they were somewhere safe where he would be sure to find them again. And so he'd palmed them. After getting arrested, cuffed and put into the police car, he'd shaken them from his left sleeve until they had fallen onto the seat. He'd made sure to push them as hard and as deep as he could into the seat edge so they wouldn't be spotted or easily dislodged. The lighter had just gone into his pocket. A smoking teenager was hardly "stop-the-presses" news in that area of L.A. Besides, he was British. Sixteen was a legal smoking age.

Alex was alerted to someone approaching by the sound of footsteps. It had been two hours since they had been charged and locked up. Seeing as they were underage, parents and guardians needed to be found and the whole mess sorted out. Sabina had given the cops her mum's number, and Alex had given Jack's. It looked like they had finally come. The cop that came to collect them was middle-aged, slightly overweight but otherwise looked like he could handle himself. He gave them one dark look before opening the cell.

"Your parents are here," he said gruffly. Alex got up from the floor and dusted himself off, making sure his hands trembled slightly, purely for the effect. Acting like a normal teenager who had just been involved in a traumatising event was paramount. He didn't want to draw the wrong kind of attention. Sabina stayed put for a second longer before reluctantly getting up. Alex suspected facing her mum was the last thing she wanted. For Alex, lying had become a habit since his fourteenth birthday. Always missing school for months at a time, he'd had to lie. But for Sabina, who was very close to her parents, lying was almost inconceivable. Alex waited patiently outside, hands drumming his thighs, his mind in turmoil. Is this what it was like to live a normal life? To have parents you cared for, who cared for you?

They were led out to the reception. Sabina was tackled by her mother, and both women held each other tightly. Alex looked at them for a second before he forced himself to look away. It felt like he was intruding. He looked at Jack. Although she looked normal on the outside – the expected mixture of worry and anger any guardian would feel – Alex sensed an underlying frustration and resignation in her posture. They looked each other in the eyes. Jack's eyes were quite clear: _We'll talk later_.

"Ahem." Jack and Alex turned to see a greying detective in rumpled clothing. He held a dossier in one hand and a cup of coffee in the other. His face was quite youthful, and would have looked even more appealing if the man didn't have an aura of perpetual tedium. Sabina, and her mother, Liz, ignored the man and continued hugging. The detective was wise enough not to interfere. After a few minutes, when the two broke apart, the detective once again made his presence known. "Ahem."

"Yes?" Liz Pleasure said.

"Mrs. Pleasure," the man said. "I'm Detective Wilson. If you don't mind, I'd like to question your daughter and this young man. While you are welcome to stay, I'd request you leave them alone with me-"

"Do you have to question them now, detective?" Liz Pleasure said. "As you can see they have been through a lot. Can't this wait?"

"Yes," Jack agreed. "They need time to calm down before they can be submitted to any questioning." Alex immediately cottoned, put his hands into his pockets, slouched slightly and tried to look as vulnerable as possible. The detective frowned as he looked at Alex.

"I'm not sure that's such a good idea. We need to question them while the details are still fresh in their minds. Someone was killed with a high calibre bullet wound to the chest. If they leave before we question them, any subsequent shock treatment could block certain memories. It's better if we do it this way. I won't have them for long, I promise." Alex silently cursed. This detective wasn't as plain as he looked. By bringing in the specs for the murder, he had made the situation more real to Jack and Liz. They couldn't in good conscience leave, especially seeing as the murder victim had been Sabina's boyfriend. Liz and Jack shared a glance, but their decision was pretty obvious. Liz turned to Sabina and started talking to her softly, calmingly. Jack hugged Alex.

"What have you done now, Alex?" she whispered, her voice ripe with fear. "Just keep it simple, try to act like someone in shock, and I'll talk to you soon."

"OK," he said his own voice breaking. The disappointment in Jack's voice hurt more than Sabina's accusations. He hadn't done anything wrong!

xxx

Alex was the second to be interviewed. He waited for ten long minutes in the cold corridor before Sabina's interview was over. Time slowed down. It seemed to take an hour. Alex found he couldn't help but be worried about Sabina. His second true friend. Ever since getting involved with MI6 he'd ran short of close friends. Alex couldn't understand how it had escalated from two friends who were ball boy and ball girl at Wimbledon, to two people who lived an ocean apart and hadn't spoken in a year. He sighed. That was life for you. He had Jack, he had Tom, Tom's brother, and that would have to be enough. He idly pulled at the collar of his shirt, thinking how his original zeal for nearly three months of summer had petered out into a cold ball of frustration and anger. For a moment he was consumed by hatred toward Sabina. She was the one to blame. If it weren't for her and whatever she was involved in, this wouldn't be happening. But then he calmed down. He had put her in the same situation, before.

He sighed, again. He should have listened to Jack. What was he thinking wearing a knee-length coat in an L.A summer? But when they'd left the U.K it was slightly windy, and Tokyo could be quite cold. Better safe than sorry. They'd have to go shopping soon. If he was going to spend a month in the States it might as well be as comfortable as possible.

The door to the interrogation room opened and Sabina walked out, the detective right behind. It was clear that she had been crying. Alex frowned and looked at the detective, his eyes hard. The detective ignored him and escorted Sabina back to the reception, back to where Liz was waiting.

"Go and wait inside," Wilson shouted back to Alex. He watched the boy walk into the interrogation room from the corner of his eye as they rounded the corner. Something set his hair on end about that boy. For some reason his instincts, finely tuned at the Academy, started screaming danger every time he looked into those dark eyes. He took a deep breath as he approached the girl's mother. He wasn't even supposed to be on duty today, it was his day off, but his partner, whose wife was pregnant, needed a day to himself, to just relax. Wilson couldn't blame Carmichael. Ever since 9/11 all law enforcement activities had trebled, with paperwork increasing tenfold. Everyone was always stressed. You never knew when an IED – Improvised Explosive Device – or some other dirty bomb would explode and panic and terror would grip the populace. But still, something had told him not to get up this morning. Now with a death that looked a little uncomfortably like an assassination, one teen girl and some scary teen guy, Wilson wished he'd listened to his instincts.

"We're finished, Mrs. Pleasure," Wilson said, trying to give a reassuring smile.

"Thank goodness," Liz Pleasure said, her British accent surfacing. "Will there be anything else, Detective Wilson?"

"Well, since the investigation is still ongoing, I would to be able to contact you if anything comes up."

"Of course, of course. My poor Sabina…" She shook her head and gave him contact details.

"Thank you, Mrs. Pleasure."

"Thank you, Detective." Mother and daughter left, Liz giving Jack a small nervous smile, leaving Wilson alone with Jack. A couple of patrol officers came in with a screaming drug addict who was protesting his innocence. Even if he was only twenty-five, young for a cop, Wilson had learned to recognise the usual perps. He went to Jack, his heart hammering. For the first time he regretted his perpetual rumpled look. She was quite pretty, with fiery red hair and intense eyes. Her figure was very slim, with all the curves in the right place. Although she was average height, her imposing demeanour made her look bigger, much more formidable.

"Where is Alex?" she asked primly, her eyes flashing.

"He's next," Wilson said, indicating the way he had come from. "I thought I'd ask you a few questions first, though." She didn't reply, instead fixing him with a hard glare. He actually gulped. Damn, but she was fine!

"Well, Miss Starbright, there are a few … irregularities concerning young Mr. Rider."

Jack did not even blink. Wilson continued.

"According to our records, every time Mr. Rider has entered the States there have been some … unusual situations that tend to surround him." He paused, not sure how to continue.

"Your records say that, do they?" she asked.

"Well, honestly, no," he admitted. She seemed thrown by that, but didn't interrupt. "It's my own conclusion. I have looked at his profile, and as far as I can tell some situations seem connected to him, though there is no hard proof. First of all there is the case of an explosion on a boat in Miami, a couple of years back. Witnesses swore a boy skateboarded down the jetty and launched himself at a departing boat. Although they couldn't give a description in detail, about eighty percent of the descriptions match Mr. Rider almost perfectly. And then there is the matter of a mishap at an airport where Mr. Rider's passport was declared out of date, and yet I have two people on record who swore they saw a boy leaving the airport in a blacked out car. All of which amounts to nothing, legally, but it's enough to make me wonder if there is more going on that meets the eye."

Jack stared at this seemingly idiotic, pathetic specimen of a man and had to revise her opinion of him. His eyes sparkled when he talked, showing a glimpse of hidden intellect. The easy way he carried himself, and the way he seemed to melt into the background even if you were looking straight at him … he was more trouble than she had thought. To be frank he reminded her of the Rider men. That is to say he was a man with a plain exterior that hid a much richer interior.

"I'm sure I misunderstand you, detective," Jack said. "It almost sounds as if you are accusing Alex of being some mastermind criminal!"

"No, no, of course not! I was just concerned that with such a history Alex might be a little bit … troubled."

"Troubled? Of course he's troubled. He saw his friend's boyfriend get shot in front of him!"

Wilson paused. He knew he was getting nowhere fast. Well, it had been worth a try. But he couldn't help but notice that the sexy Miss Starbright had not challenged his information about Alex's past, merely side-stepped them. "Of course, Miss Starbright. I'm sorry if I seemed out of order. Just doing my job." He almost groaned out loud. What kind of sentence was that? How nineties was that? It sounded so pathetic. He hid a wince. He definitely shouldn't have gotten up this morning.

"Well, how about you do your job right now and go get Alex?"

"Yes, ma'am." He got up and fought the urge to finger his collar. Her fiery red hair, intense eyes and heady perfume had him off-balance. She was slim and attractive, with legs that seemed to go on forever. Although she was average height, about five feet seven, her attitude and demeanour made her seem bigger, and much more intimidating. Some part of his mind had a feeling that she could handle herself quite well in any situation.

xxx

Alex had been waiting for about two minutes in the interrogation room when the two policemen entered. He stifled his instinct of fight or flight, instead keeping up with his depressed demeanour. One of the cops sat down opposite Alex while the other leaned against the wall. Cop number one opened a dossier and started reading it, slowly, while cop number two just stood there, chewing gum, his unblinking eyes never leaving Alex's face. If this situation hadn't been so serious Alex might have actually laughed. This was a classic TV interrogation scene. Too bad any damage inflicted in this scene would be a little more permanent than what was seen on TV.

"Alex Rider," Cop number one said. His accent was faintly European, but indistinguishable beyond that. Alex didn't reply.

"You might want to consider cooperating," Cop number one went on.

"I am," Alex said sullenly.

A humourless laugh. "No," Cop number one said. "You are pretending to cooperate. We want to know everything you heard and saw in MacArthur Park."

"I said I'd tell you, didn't I?" Alex asked petulantly.

"I think he is still playing games with us, Francis," Cop number two suddenly said, his reptile-like glare permanently trained Alex. He didn't even blink.

"Give him a chance, Gregor," Cop number one, named Francis, said. Gregor grunted and looked away from Alex, instead fixing his gaze on the blank metallic wall opposite him.

"Now, Alex," Francis said. "What were you doing in MacArthur Park? According to your guardian, Miss Starbright, you were supposed to go back to your hotel."

"I decided to take a walk," Alex said, shrugging. "I've never been in this part of L.A before. Besides, staying at the hotel on my own would have been boring." Francis looked into Alex's eyes as he spoke, and all of the sudden Alex had the feeling that he had best be honest with every answer he gave. Something about this cop set his hair on end.

"OK," Francis said after a second. He'd closed the dossier by then. He seemed to have no need of it. "How exactly did you meet Miss Pleasure?"

"I didn't," Alex said. "At least, it was by accident. I'd gone to MacArthur because it looked nice. I wanted to see the lake. I saw her by accident, standing across the lake."

"I see," Francis said, his eyes never leaving Alex's face. All of the sudden Alex suddenly realised why Francis was looking so intently at him: he was looking for physiological signs given off when a human being is lying. Alex quickly ran them all through his head. "You and Miss Pleasure seem to be close, or at least used to be. How did you feel when you saw her with Klaus?" Alex was so engrossed in trying not to emit any tell-tale signs that he nearly let the game slip. _And when did I seem to be close to Sabina?_ Alex thought. _She's been giving me the cold shoulder ever since you arrested us_.

"Who's Klaus?" he asked. "Do you mean the boy who got shot? I thought his name was Jimmy."

"It is," Francis replied smoothly. "His first name is Klaus and his middle name is Jimmy. His father was German and his mother American. So, how did you feel when you saw Miss Pleasure with Klaus?" _Escaped one bullet so far_, Alex thought. _And that sounds like a bullshit story made on the spot, Francis. Klaus was all-German._

"What do you mean?" Alex asked, screwing up his face slightly. "Hey, wait a minute. Are you accusing me of shooting him?"

"Answer the question please, Alex," Francis said. His manner was relaxed but Alex noticed Gregor making exaggerated tensing-up movements, no doubt designed to intimidate him. He played along.

"I don't know," Alex answered truthfully. "I never had any time to notice him or that they were a couple. One second I was looking into the lake, the next I noticed Sabina, and then Jimmy – Klaus – was suddenly falling on top of Sabina. I saw a spray of blood but it never really clicked that he'd been shot. I guess I didn't want to believe my eyes." Alex hoped the blend of truth and lie was subtle enough to escape Francis. It was.

"Hmm," Francis hummed. "Is that why you stole that generator and made an impromptu speed boat?"

"Well," Alex fidgeted, "I never actually stole it. I only borrowed-"

"Alex," Francis said, holding up a hand. "You're not being charged with "borrowing" the generator. The charges were dropped once we explained to the family what had happened."

"Oh," Alex said, visibly relaxing. "Yeah, I guess that's why I borrowed it. I mean, I saw Klaus go down on top of Sabina. Whatever was happening, it didn't look good, and so I decided to go over as quickly as I could to help an old friend out." Again, it was a mix of truth and lie.

"Very well. Tell me what happened when you reached Klaus and Miss Starbright."

"Well, Sabina was crying, so at first I couldn't see what the problem was. And then I saw Klaus was bleeding from his chest and realised he had been shot."

"Is that all?"

"Just about."

"What does "just about" mean?"

"Well, Klaus started talking, trying to calm Sabina down I think, but then he must have gone into shock or something because he started speaking in German until he d… until he passed away."

"Can you remember anything he said?" Francis asked, leaning forward slightly. Even Gregor seemed to be paying more attention.

"He was speaking _German_," Alex repeated, managing to achieve the twenty-first century teenage "duh" tone of voice. Francis frowned and for a moment Alex glimpsed an annoyed and very much scary inner persona. But it passed as soon as it came and Francis smiled.

"Of course," Francis said. Alex managed to hide a sigh of relief. He hadn't actually said he couldn't remember. All he'd said was that Klaus was speaking German. Talk about playing with words.

"Very well, Alex," Francis said as he stood up. "You appear to have told us everything we want to know, for the time being. But if you remember anything, or if something occurs to you, don't hesitate to call me." Francis handed Alex a card before he walked out of the room, Gregor a few steps behind. The silent man spared Alex another look before closing the door behind him. Alex held his breath until his ears confirmed that the two had walked away before he let it out slowly. He'd come here on holiday for Christ's sake, and instead all he'd found was nothing but trouble. He sighed. Jack wasn't going to like this.

xxx

After repeating the same interview with detective Wilson, he went back to the reception area. Jack was waiting for him, her expression simultaneously concerned and angry.

"Come on, Alex," Jack said, feigning a light tone of voice. "This place can't be doing you any good."

"I've just got to go and collect my things at the reception. They took all of my stuff when they processed me," Alex explained. "But first, I'm going to the toilets. No one would let me go when I was in the cell."

"Wouldn't they?" Jack asked, and saw the exact moment in time when her anger shifted from him to the police officers.

"No," he said. "They didn't even talk to us until you and Liz Pleasure came. They just processed us and threw us in a cell. That's LAPD for you, I guess." He gave her a half-hearted smile, turned round and walked away. When he got to a side door he looked back for a second and felt guilty at using her so. While it was true he hadn't been allowed to go to the toilet, it wasn't something he would normally complain about. The only reason he had mentioned it was because he needed to distract both Jack and as many officers as he could, his arresting officers in particular. He just hoped that in time he could forgive himself, and more immediately he hoped he hadn't wasted too much time in the interview with Detective Wilson. If his arresting officers had left in the car they had arrested him in, things were just about to get a whole lot harder.

As soon as Jack was out of sight, he made a run for it. If his memory was correct, and the calculations he had performed whilst meditating were anything to go by, he would require at least five minutes to pull of what he intended, without being caught and avoiding all the CCTV cameras.

_What are you involved in exactly, Sabina?_ Alex thought as he ran down a flight of stairs. _Whatever it is, though, I don't think I will be able to help you… God, I hate my life sometimes._

XXX

Jack tracked down Detective Wilson with frightening precision, for someone who had never had any official training in that area. After half a minute of looking around, and stopping two middle-aged officers who had, after years of experience, seen what state she was in and guessed what she intended and had therefore been of as much help as they possibly could be, she found Wilson in a secure room that housed the precinct's hard copy information. When the door had banged open with fury, Wilson had turned round quickly, his hand reaching for the gun in his shoulder holster. Jack had ignored the action, and in one single bound that seemed to Wilson a lot faster than any bounds legally should be, she had stepped up to him and slapped his across his cheek. It hurt than most punches Wilson had ever received at his local dojo. Staggering back slightly, he looked up at her, holding his left cheek in his left hand. He was about to ask her what the hell the slap had been for. He was about to ask her where the hell she had gotten the access code that opened the door. He had been about to ask her how the hell she had found him to begin with. All those questions died in his throat as he looked at her face. She looked scarier than most perps he had ever come across. Her eyes, those intense eyes, were absolutely cold. Her face was pale, no doubt suffering from blood loss due to the tightness of her lips. She looked like she was about to commit murder. Despite all that, he still couldn't help but admire how beautiful she was. So he forwent all preliminaries and jumped right to the heart of the matter.

"Miss Starbright, how may I help you?"

"How dare you treat children like that!?"

"Like what, Miss Starbright?"

"Alex told me of the way you treated him and Sabina. How dare you ignore two children in shock!? Did you even see how distraught Sabina was? Her fucking boyfriend was killed!"

"Miss Starbright, please, calm down. I'm sure we can sort this all-"

"Calm down!? No, you listen to me, Detective. I want an official apology from this station to both Sabina and Alex. I want whoever was supposed to be looking after them to grovel for forgiveness. I want everyone responsible for abandoning two minors at such a traumatic time to be held accountable. Is that understood, Detective?"

"Now, Miss Starbright," Wilson said, an edge of steel creeping into his voice. "This isn't a hotel. We were only doing our job."

"Your job? Your job!? Well then, Detective, let me tell you something about your job. According to you own admission, five minutes after arresting Sabina and Alex it was clear that they had nothing to do with Jimmy's death. Even if they had, they were both in shock, as testified by your own police officers. Even if they had something to do with it, the law in this state, in this freaking country, advocates the protection of children. You threw them in a cell for a couple of hours and left them there to rot, like criminals! That's gross negligence, Detective! That's child abuse! That's just sick! And if I don't get what I asked for, I am suing every person in this building, the whole police force, and even the city if I have to, until this whole mess has been resolved. Do you understand, Detective?"

_What!? That can't be true. Francis and Gregor told me they had everything under control._ Wilson started panicking. This incident could not afford to go public. A young adult getting sniped, and then his girlfriend and her fried getting thrown into a cell without so much as a word? This was bad. Damage control was needed, and immediately.

"Miss Starbright, I had no idea about any of this, but rest assured madam, I will do all in my power to make sure it's righted. Please, follow me, and we'll go find Alex and Sabina's arresting officers. They were in charge of them."

Jack's eyebrows met. "Let's go find them."

_Poor bastards_, Wilson thought. The way this woman was going, the two officers were in for a world of pain."

XXX

Alex walked among rows of cars, trying to find the right one. The fact that he had to look through two floors of cars and dodge mechanics and officers to boot did not help much either. His mental countdown also did not seem to be making things easier. He had been in the underground garage for three and a half minutes, and still he hadn't spotted the car.

_I hope those two creeps didn't take it out again. That's the last thing I need, hunting down one vehicle in a city this size._

As if some celestial power was looking out for him, he suddenly spotted the car. He swore. There were two mechanics by the car, and from the look of things they were about to give it a once over, clean it and check everything was in working condition. They would probably find the keys while they were at it. Alex remained hidden and watched, seeing how events would shape themselves. His mind raced, thinking through all the options he had. Incapacitating the two mechanics would only be his last option, for that would lead to an investigation, and after that it wouldn't take much for him to be discovered. He especially did not want those two officers who had arrested and interviewed him to suspect anything. He suspected that the fact that he was accidentally involved in all this was the only thing keeping him safe. If Francis and Gregor believed him innocent and uninvolved in whatever was going down, they were more likely to leave him alone and thereby give Alex more room to manoeuvre. Alex watched the mechanics move to the side of the car and start talking.

_That's it! My chance!_

Without another thought, Alex moved from his cover beside a car and rushed forward on silent feet, his movements akin to a cat stalking a mouse. He got to the side of the car without incident, although at one point he had nearly been seen by a mechanic who was working on a car in the next row. Alex crouched by the side of the car, his breathing deep and slow. If he had heard right…

The driver's door opened, and Alex put a hand on the latch of the door beside him. He had to time it just right. With nearly pinpoint precision, Alex pulled on the latch at the exact moment one of the mechanics pulled on the knob that would open the bonnet.

"Did you hear anything?" the mechanic said to the other one.

"No," was the short reply. The second mechanic sounded much younger than the first. _He's probably fresh from school_, Alex thought. _It would explain his sullen behaviour. The job is probably not all he imagined it to be._

"You're gonna go deaf listening to that crap," the first mechanic commented gruffly as he set about checking the water and oil of the car.

"It ain't crap," the second mechanic grunted, probably not wanting to be drawn into conversation. "It's music."

"Pah!" the first mechanic spat. "Elvis Presley was music, the Beetles were music, and the Temptations were definitely music. Not that _Cradle of Shit_ you're listening to."

"It's called," the second mechanic said in clipped tones, "_Cradle of Filth_."

"Same difference," the first mechanic shrugged. He gave the contents of bonnet one last look before nodding in satisfaction. "Now how about you turn on that vacuum cleaner and get cleaning, hmm?" He shut the bonnet with a resounding din. Alex had no trouble closing the car door without being detected. With one last look to ensure the cost was clear, he rushed along the rows of cars, up two flights of stairs, down a few corridors and managed to get into the bathroom from one of its windows a few seconds before Jack and Detective Wilson rushed in looking for him.

XXX

Jack had started getting worried about Alex. While Detective Wilson was on the phone trying to locate Inspectors Francis and Gregor, Jack had started thinking about Alex. When he had first seen him after Alex and Sabina had been let out of their cell, she had noticed something; the fun-loving, smiling Alex was gone. Instead the Alex she had thought she had bid good riddance too two years ago had been the one who had walked toward her, the one she had hugged. The haunted look had returned to Alex's eyes.

_What if he does something drastic? God forgive me, I was a bit harsh with him earlier._

Without another thought Jack rushed out of Wilson's office. The Detective looked up in surprise as his door slammed shut. He hung up instantly and chased after her. What the hell was wrong this time? He caught up to her just as she was reaching for the doors of the male toilets, the one near the reception. He put one and one together instantly and therefore did not try to stop her. Alex must have been in the toilets, and if he had gone in when Miss Starbright had accosted him, then he must have been in there for about five minutes. Anything could have happened in that time, especially where a teenager in shock was concerned.

They barged into the toilets together and saw Alex at the end of the aisle, standing in front of the sink. They could see his face in the mirror. It was wet, and so was his hair. The open window ruffled his locks slightly, and they saw him shiver at the gust of cold wind.

_He's definitely going into shock, alright_, Wilson thought.

"How about you and Alex go back to your hotel room and I will call you when I have any new information?" Wilson suggested.

"I think that's a good idea," Jack said. "Be a good man and call a taxi for us, will you?"

"Of course," Wilson said. "And don't worry about the fare; the precinct will take care of it."

"I hadn't expected any less," Jack said haughtily as she moved toward Alex.

_That's one mean, not to mention sexy, bitch_, Wilson thought with a grimace as he exited the room and went to the reception.


End file.
